Escaping the Pain
by E. Limberg
Summary: Uses song Carolyna by Melanie C.  Stella and Mac have a long talk about her childhood and the pain she went through, causing her to run away.  Hints of MS.


**Escaping the Pain**

"_Just another girl with a dream in her heart_

_Want to make a new start with a fire inside of her_

_She had to go_

_She couldn't stay around, everybody let her down_

_Stole the light and the life and the child inside of her_

_She's so alone"_

Mac knocks on her office door, "Can I come in?"

She looks up and smiles, "Of course."

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab a drink with me."

"You're inviting me out? It's always the other way around."

"Maybe it's time for a change," he waits for her to get ready to leave. "Besides, I'd like to talk to you."

"About what?" she asks quizzically.

"Our case."

"But we solved it."

"Well, it kind of involves the case, but it more has to do with you."

"Me? Am I in trouble again?"

"No."

Stella smirks as they get into the elevator, "You know you don't have to get me drunk to get me to talk about whatever it is you want to know."

"Yes, I know that. I just thought that we could use a break after working hard the past few days."

"Are you taking me home?"

"I guess so."

"Just making sure I didn't have to drive home tonight."

"And you're lucky you don't have to work tomorrow."

"I still don't understand what the case has to do with me."

He sighs, "Our victim was running away when she was raped."

"Yes."

"Well, you seemed to know a lot about… running away, sneaking out, something of that sort. I could tell by the way you were talking to her."

"_Running for the train_

_Take her away from everything she knows_

_And the way they make her feel_

_She leaves today_

_Never look back, never lose track, already strong_

_She's seen too much at seventeen_

_The past will fade with the future that she craves"_

He returns to the table with two beers, "You've been quiet since I mentioned it. What, you're not going to open up to me?"

She stares at the bottle before taking a sip, "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I'm your best friend; we don't hide things from each other."

"It was twenty years ago; I'm over my childhood."

"It's still there; you can't forget it."

"Yes, Mac," her voice rises slightly, "I did run away."

"But why?"

"Foster care is impossible to describe. No one would understand what I went through unless they were in the system."

"What do you mean?" Mac asks.

"The foster parents only care about the money; most abuse the children they're supposed to take care of. Once in a while, you do find people that actually do care."

"So the thing with Mindy wasn't just a… an accident? It happened again?"

"That was just the beginning of the horror, though he was one of the very few foster parents that sexually abused the children."

"Did they… Were you ever forced to… do what she did? Did they get you too?"

"There was another one who abused girls when I was fifteen. When he tried to make a move on me, I ran away."

He thinks this over for a few minutes. "Do you have all those… bruises and scars like our victim did?"

"I still have a few scars, but the bruises went away."

"How did you get them?"

"_Carolyna, you travel so far_

_Trying to escape the pain, start again where you are_

_Carolyna, you keep following your star_

_Nobody said you're beautiful, you're beautiful the way you are"_

Stella takes a deep breath, "I have one on my arm from when I was nine. My foster parents were angry with me because I got a B in history on my report card. The next day I was helping with dinner, and she claims the knife accidentally cut me as she was putting it in the sink. I'm pretty sure she meant to cut me, just not as deep as she did. It turned out to be more trouble for them when I wouldn't stop bleeding and had to get stitches."

"All because of a stupid B that doesn't count for anything in fourth grade?"

She nods, "And their daughter who was three years older than me never got above a C."

"I take it there were many more 'accidents'," he watches her curiously.

"There's another scar on my stomach, but it's kind of hidden by the one I got when I was shot. Uh… I think it's from when I was twelve. My foster father had a client from work and his wife over for dinner, trying to sell him something for his company. He told him how much it was for each item, then gave him a total cost after the guy said he needed somewhere around seventy-five. I corrected his math; he had added an extra couple thousand dollars."

"Let me guess: he was trying to scam them?"

"Yeah. After they left, he got really mad at me. Amongst his yelling, he was throwing things at me. When I was trying to get away, I tripped and fell onto a piece of glass. They had to take me to the hospital to remove a large piece of the glass that had broken off inside me when they tried to get it out. I think I ended up with around thirty stitches."

"That must've really hurt."

"Especially since my foster parents refused to give me pain killers for costing them extra money in the sale."

"_Finally you're free, where you long to be_

_But it won't be long until hits reality_

_The streets are cold_

_Big, bad city going to eat you up_

_Hard to survive, hard to keep your sanity_

_Still feeling low_

_But she's never going home"_

"Stella, I'm so sorry," Mac reaches out to touch her hand.

"There's nothing you could have done about it."

"You still shouldn't have had to go through so much at such a young age."

"Mac," Stella looks down into her nearly empty bottle, "I don't need your pity."

"Well, I think someone should feel sorry for you; you were being punished for ridiculous things in brutal, abusive ways."

"No matter where I went, I couldn't avoid it. I could stay with these people who were supposed to take care of me or live on the streets."

"It's too dangerous for a kid of any age to live on New York City streets."

"I didn't get very far when I ran away. A police officer found me and took me to Child Services since I wouldn't tell him where I lived."

"Why did you run away?"

"I was tired of being… injured by these people who were supposed to care for me. I figured my real parents weren't going to show up since they hadn't yet. At that time, I thought I'd be better off on my own; I already took care of myself."

"Before you go on, can I get you another drink?" he asks, gesturing to her bottle.

"Sure."

A few minutes later, Mac returns with two more bottles of beer. "So let's hear this from the beginning."

She takes a big sip before setting the bottle down on their table. "Well, it all started one night in March. I had gone up to my room to study for a science test the next day after helping with the dishes and other chores. Everyone else was downstairs watching TV, I believe. The thirteen year old girl my foster father normally… forced to have sex with him had been transferred about a week before this."

"_Carolyna, you travel so far_

_Trying to escape the pain, start again where you are_

_Carolyna, you keep following your star_

_Nobody said you're beautiful, you're beautiful the way you are"_

March 22, 19879:36 PM

A fifteen year old Stella lies on a bed, a Chemistry book in front of her, dressed in clothes way too big for her slim body. The bedroom door opens, and she doesn't even look up.

"Test soon?" a dark-haired man asks, watching her.

"Tomorrow."

"You'll do fine; you always do. If only the other kids tried as hard as you in school," her foster father tries to keep her calm, not scare her off.

As she continues to read, he sits down beside her. His hand reaches up and gently strokes her curly hair. "Do you need me to help with something?" she looks back at him.

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Nothing else to do. Want me to quiz you?"

Stella frowns at his friendliness. "I'm good."

"Alright," he continues to watch her, hand slowly trailing down her back.

Suddenly she sits up, "Don't you think that's a little inappropriate since I'm only fifteen? If you want to… do that, why don't you go find your wife?"

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stella." His hand rests on the soft skin of her stomach, the baggy shirt having risen up a little.

She back away, "I don't think this is a good idea. You should probably go back downstairs."

"It'll be fine. You have nothing to be worried about."

Quickly she opens the door and runs as fast as she can down the stairs, heading out the front door as well. Instead of taking the elevator down, she heads for the emergency stairs, afraid to look behind her to see if he's following. In her rush to get out, she trips, hitting her forehead on the hard concrete stairs. As much as it hurts, she gets back up and continues running.

"_She tries to rest_

_All she needs is a warm caress_

_All she wants is happiness"_

Three blocks down the street from the apartment building she finally stops running. After making sure no one is following her, she starts walking, not sure where she is going but determined never to go back. The cold air soon hits her, and she shivers, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

As she approaches a subway entrance, Stella feels her pockets, looking for any money she might have. Her pockets, however, are empty; there is no way she can get away from this awful city now. In the morning, she'd have to look for a job to get enough money to buy a ticket and leave this place. She could start a new life in another city, maybe state too. But for now she needs to find some place to sleep.

"Hey, kid, got any money?" a homeless man asks, holding out a tin can.

She keeps walking, ignoring the man. Lucky for her, there aren't many people on the street that night, making it less likely someone would see her and make her go back home.

A car parks beside her and a man gets out, but she doesn't pay him the slightest bit of attention.

He continues to follow her, "Do you know what time it is?"

"No."

"After eleven. Someone your age shouldn't be out at this time. I'm a police officer; let me take you home."

"I'm not going back."

"What's your name?"

"Stella. Stella Bonasera."

"Where do you live?"

"I'm not going back there," she repeats stubbornly.

"Then you'll have to come to the station with me."

"_Carolyna, you travel so far_

_Trying to escape the pain, start again where you are_

_Carolyna, you keep following your star_

_Nobody said you're beautiful, you're beautiful the way you are"_

Present Day

"The officer took me to the hospital, and I got a few stitches above my eye," Stella points to the scar. "Then he called Child Services, and they put me in another foster home."

Mac sits silently for a few minutes, taking in her story. "I… I know why your parents left you, Stella."

"How do you know?"

"Before I interviewed you for the CSI job, I searched your name through the police files. There was one match found. It was a report from a car accident. You were only three months old when it happened; both… both of them were killed. No other relatives could be found, so you were put in foster care."

"After all these years I finally find out. I always thought that they just didn't want me. They were dead all along."

"When I first met you, I couldn't tell if you knew it or not. Over the years, it's become clear you didn't. After tonight, I thought you deserved to know why you went through all that suffering," his eyes meet hers.

"Thanks for telling me, Mac."

"It's what I'm here for. I'm glad you opened up to me tonight."

"I'm glad I now have someone to confide in," she smiles.

"We should probably be heading home. It's been a long and tiring day." He leads her out with a hand on her back. "We'll have to see what tomorrow brings."

"Sleep."

They drive in silence until he reaches her apartment. "I hate to say it, but I'm kind of happy you didn't have any money that night, Stel."

"Me too. I can't imagine not having you in my life," she lets him walk her to her door.

"Talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, Mac. Thanks for listening."

"Anytime," he smiles.

"_Carolyna, you travel so far_

_Trying to escape the pain, start again where you are_

_Carolyna, you keep following your star_

_Nobody said you're beautiful, you're beautiful the way you are_

_Carolyna"_

**A/N: So sorry I didn't post before this. I've been really lazy. At least with this stuff. I did get some typing done though. I have the other one chapter thing done; don't know when it'll be up though but before the new season starts. That one's kind of sad and I so don't want it to come ture. Although everything I've read says Peyton doesn't come back from London with him. The other one's sad too; I have the first... three of seven chapters done. My parents have been gone since like eleven-thirty, yet I haven't typed more to it yet. They should be home soon though. I did some homework, practiced my flute, went on the computer to check email, showered, did some laundry, ate lunch, and editted and printed another story that's already up here. I still have chemistry homework to do; our experiment thing is due tomorrow and we have to prove we actually did our experiment. I need to print out my pictures and rewrite my hypothesis and stuff. I never really did research on my topic though (cupcakes and what happens if you forget ingredients). It was kind of funny though because the ones with everything in them tasted worse then like the ones without baking soda and eggs. The ones without sugar were just plain awful. So... I need to go change my laundry and put the potatoes in the oven. And for the record, this story, well the idea of it, was thought of by a friend of mine, Lissy, who also has a few things up here. She heard the song and asked me to write her a story for her birthday using it and the idea of Stella running away when she was younger. Thanks to her for the idea. I liked it, but the story was a little late for her birthday. Please review. Thanks for reading.**


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